The Second Coming
by Nearly Civilized
Summary: The story of Voldemort's second rise to power - which turns out to be even worse than the first.
1. Beginning of the End

**Thanks for taking a look at my story!**

Everything Harry Potter is copyright to J. K. Rowling and her publishers. Everything not in the books is from my own imagination.

First chapter, I hope you enjoy this. ;) Please review!

Chapter two will probably take a little while to complete as I'm very busy at school, etc.

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The man was startlingly muscular, his tanned physique that of a large foreign body-builder – the kind you would see on TV dressed in a Speedo and lifting ten pianos, and who probably spent his life weight lifting. He wore a blue, flannel, Hawaiian style shirt decorated with tropical flowers; the first buttons near the collar were left undone, displaying the top of a sculpted chest that looked as though it belonged on a statue of some Greek God. The skin was dark and with no flaws; the face was practically radiating perfection, lips pulled back in an arrogant tooth-paste commercial smile and eyes twinkling a challenge. Black hair was slicked back Greaser-style. On one arm hung a vivacious woman in a red halter top; the elbow of his other thick arm rested on a table in front of him, his lower arm at a forty-five degree angle and ready to arm wrestle his opponent. "Are you man enough for me?" He announced in a wheezy mechanical voice.

Morris stood in front of the arm wrestling machine, glancing at the man's plastic perfection of an arm. He compared it to his own thin, boney one and sighed, allowing his arm to drop limply to his side; it swung back and forth a few times and proceeded to hang there pathetically. Morris grimaced. Would he ever have muscles like the other boys – the foot ball players, namely – or was he stuck in this rangy body forever, forced to bench press fifteen pounds while the rest of his gym class laughed at his weakness?

"My grandma could blow through a straw and knock you over." The arm wrestling machine answered Morris's thoughts promptly. Morris took one last looked at the handsome, smiling face and turned away. The rest of the arcade, filled with machines flashing multi-colored lights and playing cartoon-ish music, was empty except for a few stragglers. It was getting late, and Morris decided he'd better get home. With another resigned sigh he pulled up his baggy jeans, affected a slumped posture, and stalked out towards the exit.

Today had been (as usual), a horrible day at school. It started out alright, with no incident first period. Second period, though, was a disaster. It was gym class – the class Morris always dreaded. He got to dress up in a dorky school uniform and make a complete fool of himself, whether it be missing every shot during basketball, being the last one chosen for the soccer team, or chasing around a ping-pong ball as it bounced around the gym crazily (with kids laughing at him the entire time). Today his gym teacher had announced that today marked the beginning of the miserable week that the weight-lifting unit was. Morris despised this unit more than any other. It was typical for him to get paired up with the most athletic person in his class; probably an attempt on his teacher's part to balance off his complete and utter uselessness. Today it was a defensive man from the football team – who had laughed at him through the entire session.

Once gym had mercifully ended, Morris had endured an entire day of teasing and taunting. Usually his one and only friend, a girl named Tavi (somehow short for Victoria), would sit with him at lunch and help him get through it. But now that Tavi was gone, he was alone and miserable.

The thought of Tavi only made Morris feel worse. Sometime during the beginning of the year, Tavi had stopped coming to school. He had called her house after two days of her absence and got a garbled message from her parents. Apparently she had transferred to some foreign school and wouldn't coming back for a long time or perhaps forever. Since Tavi had never mentioned this to him, Morris had trouble believing it. But he hadn't seen her anywhere, not even when he showed up at her house. She was gone, whether it be to some foreign school or to the moon. And now Morris was alone.

After school Morris had stopped off at home to get something to eat; his parents noticed the bad mood he was in and had tried to comfort him. Morris had snapped some mean things that he hadn't really meant to say to them and slammed the door shut behind him as he grabbed his skateboard. He had taken off to his favorite and only hang-out, the arcade, and spent the rest of the afternoon there alone half-heartedly playing his usual games.

Now the sun was setting and it was time to go home. Morris let the door swing shut behind him as he unhooked his skateboard from the bike locking grill. He dropped his skateboard in front of him and lifted his foot to place it on the center when suddenly, from behind him, he was given a rough shove. Surprised, Morris stumbled forward and landed elbows-first on the cement, pain searing up his arms and one funny bone tingling. "Hey!" He called out, more out of instinct than anything, and pushed himself to his feet.

A figure in a puffy, blue winter coat and a tight cotton hat was propelling down the street on Morris's skateboard with surprising speed. "What do you think you're doing?!" Morris hollered again and threw himself into a sprint, his long legs pumping roughly against the sidewalk. The figure didn't seem to hear him, for it kept going. Morris wasn't a very fast runner and he forced himself to go as fast as he could, adrenaline coursing through his veins and his stomach constricting with the effort. He could feel his heartbeat in his ears, though the cause of this was more the anger he felt than of physical exertion. Morris felt all of the stress of the day build up and fuel his temper.

Suddenly, up ahead, came a four-way intersection. The thief would have to cross at the street corner. Cars were lining up in front of a red light which would soon turn green. Morris felt a surge of triumph: the skateboard stealer would have to stop or else get hit by a car when the light changed! He sped up, ready to get his skateboard ( perhaps the only thing he liked in this world ) back. However, something quite unusual happened.

The man in the thick coat reached into a pocket at his side and withdrew a long, thin stick. Morris saw him point it to his feet and heard him shout something. All of a sudden, the skateboard burst forward as if propelled by rockets, leaving a trail of green flame in it's wake. The man and skateboard whizzed across the street and reached the other side just as the light changed.

Morris nearly cried out in frustration as he was forced to slow to a stop as a long chain of cars went by in front of him. He swore, standing on his toes and trying to see over them, but his efforts were in vain. By the time all of the cars had driven passed, the thief was no where to be seen and the sidewalk across the street was empty. Morris felt his anger recede into the all-too familiar feeling of depression. He sighed, frustrated, and submitted to the idea that he'd never see his skateboard again. What was he thinking trying to go after it in the first place? It's not like he could've taken it by force or anything. Morris, thinking that he'd better get home before his parents got really worried, turned around to start the long trudge home.

A scream and a loud crash from the down the street made him whirl around quickly. His heart leaping with renewed hope, he ran across the street and down the sidewalk. The boy steered himself around the corner, and about a block away, saw a sight that made him want to both laugh and cry.

A woman sat in her parked car near an expired parking meter, eyes wide as she gawked at a man lying sprawled on the front of her windshield. She let out another scream, her hands clutching the steering wheel white-knuckled. Morris instantly recognized the man on her windshield as the blue-coated thief. As he jogged nearer, he saw his skateboard ( now mangled) lying a few feet away from the car. The thief had obviously ran smack-dab into the woman's parked car as he rocketed down the street. A few people nearby were watching in shock, another woman fumbling around in her purse for a cell phone.

Morris approached the scene slowly, kneeling to pick up his skateboard and inspecting the damage. It was pretty much ruined beyond repair, and a few green sparks hissed from the back like a broken electrical wire. Morris threw it to the ground and stared at the man on the windshield. Was he still alive? If so, he wouldn't be for long. After ending such a bad day with the wreck of his precious skateboard, Morris was ready to kill.

From behind him, Morris heard the woman talking rapidly on her cell phone to the police. He ignored her, taking a single step towards the car with the frightened woman still frozen inside. She screamed again, and Morris almost did with her.

At that instant the man's heard jerked up, his bloody and broken face looking directly at Morris. Morris stared in horror at the crazy, twisted smile on his split lips and the insanely victorious look in his eyes – shuttered, dark eyes of a psychopath. He heard the woman behind him stop talking to stammer at the sight before her.

The man laughed; it was a high-pitched, fast, ringing laugh that made Morris's heat leap with panic. Morris stepped back, very much disinclined to do anything but run now. Something about the man's demeanor dissipated Morris's anger and replaced it with intense fear. However, he stood rigidly still as he heard the man shout something that made little sense to him.

"Lord Voldemort triumphs! Hogwarts falls to the Dark Lord, and the rest of the world shall soon follow!!" He declared loudly and with a voice filled with intense glee. Then, before anyone could react to his deranged announcement, he withdrew the long stick from his pocket and pointed it at Morris. _"Crucio!"_ He bellowed.

Morris felt rather than saw the beam of light hit his body, and then felt himself falling over. Whether he hit the ground or not he did not, because suddenly an intense pain swept his body. All of his muscles began to convulse and twitch, constricting and trying to push against each other. A fire seared behind his eyes and his mind reeled – he heard a scream ( was that his own? ) and another searing fire momentarily blinded him. His body rocked and fought against itself frantically, and Morris's mind could register nothing but pain. Stop please ... let me die, let this stop! He heard himself think and shout, though the words were no more than unrecognizable gurgling.

Over the roar Morris heard in his ears he heard the distinct noise of the man's high-pitched laughter and felt his body leap slightly into the air as it was hit with another beam of light from the wand. Morris screamed again, but he could do little more for at a darkness enveloped him. Right before he died, he saw the fleeting glimpse blurred color moved about in his swirling vision. Then his eyes closed and his tormented body quieted.


	2. Back to Hogwarts

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny stood at the barrier in front of station nine and three-quarters, saying their last goodbyes to the Weasley family and Hermione's parents. Harry and Hermione had stayed at the Burrow over the summer. Harry had been told that it was too busy at Grimauld for him to stay there like he had last summer, but he knew that everyone was just trying to make an excuse so that he didn't have to go back to the place that would remind him so much of Sirius. Sirius had been a touchy subject with Harry that everyone had tried to avoid. At first, he had been grateful for this tactfulness but it had begun to annoy him as of late. Nevertheless, he had enjoyed a generally pleasant summer.

"Make sure you keep up your studies, and never mind what's going on here." Mrs. Weasley was saying in her usual authortive manner. She spoke, of course, at what was happening at the Grimmauld place and with Lord Voldemort. Now that the Wizarding World believed in his return and were on the lookout, Voldemort would have to be especially careful. Indeed, Voldemort or his Deatheaters hadn't been seen since the incident at the Ministry of Magic and it was assumed they were hiding away somewhere recouping their losses. However, there had been a definite increase in attacks against Muggle-born wizards – the pavement in front of their house became sinking sand, their garden plants grew teeth, and they found interesting things deposited on their front lawns. Probably the work of younger, non-Deatheater Voldemort supporters ... 'those blasted punk kids,' as Mrs. Weasley so called them.

"Yes, mum." Ron said flatly. He was beginning to harbor even more resent for his mother's matronly attitude, considering himself nearly at a grown man now.

"And keep in touch, dears." Mrs. Weasley continued.

"Yes, mum." Ron's answer was as droll as his previous.

"And Harry," Mrs. Weasley said, turning to Harry and looking at him pointedly. She embraced him tightly, unsettling his glasses which he adjusted when she had let go. "Take care of yourself." She said in slightly sympathetic tones.

Harry nodded, unsure of what to say. "You to." He added quickly and lamely at the last moment.

Mrs. Weasley proceeded to give everyone else their customary hugs, Ron's ears going pink with embarrassment from behind Mrs. Weasley's mass of red hair as she gave him an kiss on the cheek "Everyone else to, take care of yourselves. I don't want to hear about you getting into all sorts of trouble again." She warned.

"Oh, mum – they're not babies anymore." George piped from beside her, dressed in royal purple robes with real gold trim. His and Fred's joke business had been an instant success and the entire Weasley family, although still poor, was reaping the benefits.

"Yeah, mum – they can carry their own little lunch boxes now." Fred answered back, himself in grayish-white robes that sparkled with startling beauty; interwoven in the fabric were some unicorn hairs.

The twins laughed together uproariously, sound very familiar to Harry and that often comforted him in these days of uncertainty. He grinned good-naturedly. However, Ron beside him was flushed with anger. Fred and George had been teasing him all summer about his sudden attempts at maturity. Hermoine ignored the two and turned to Mrs. Weasley.

"You'll ask Mr. Weasley to keep us updated on what's happening at the Ministry?" She asked. Mr. Weasley wasn't here today on account of Ministry business, and he was hardly home at all either.

Mrs. Weasley sighed wistfully. "If I can get ahold of him myself." She said gloomily. The clock on the station wall chimed behind her and she jumped as if stung by a bee. "Well, you four better be off. Have a good year at school and remember what I told you – _behave!_" She said, herding Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny towards the barriers.

"Remember to uphold the honor of the Weasley family name!" Was Fred and George's goodbye.

"Wait!" Said Fred suddenly, causing Ron, who was poised to run at the barrier with her cart, to jerk.

"Have you gotten your binky, Ron?" George quipped.

Ron growled something in response and then proceeded to run at the barrier, pretending that it was his brothers that he was running into with his heavily laden luggage cart. Ginny, Hermione, and last of all Harry followed behind him.

Ginny was giggling and Ron glared at her. "You think those two are funny?" He asked angrily.

Hermione sighed. "I'm sure the success of their shop has just gone to their head, Ron. They'll be better once they learn a few hard truths about what happens with those who don't go to school." Although happy at Fred and George's Joke Shop's success, Hermione had not approved of their spectacle of dropping out of school last year. "Anyway, let's find a compartment on the train before they're all taken." She said brusquely, casting a disapproving look at a gaggle of giggling second year girls.

"What about the compartment for House Heads?" Harry asked without an ounce of jealously.

"We'll check and see if we can't just drop in a little late." The girl answered, and the four of them dragged their carts near to the back of the train.

They floundered around with their heavy trunks inside of the train until they found a compartment empty. Chattering about the coming year, they didn't notice that indeed the compartment wasn't empty – it contained a very small, delicately boned girl with skin the ruddish-tan of someone from the Middle East and brown eyes nearly as dark as her thick, black hair.

"Oh, hello!" Hermione said in surprise as she finally noticed the girl. Ron, Harry, and Ginny paused while they shoved their trunks under the seat to look. "Are you a new First Year?" Hermione said, standing up a bit taller in a position Ron and Harry had come to know as her "Head Girl stance."

The girl blinked up at her. "First Year?" She asked in a confused sort of way in a soft, gentle voice, and then jumped. "Oh, no ... I'm sixteen!"

Harry, Ron, and Ginny looked at each other awkwardly. "Is she lying?" Ginny mouthed, and Harry shrugged. This girl _looked_ like she could pass for a first year.

"Really?" Hermione asked to smooth over the brief silence. "I've never seen you at Hogwarts before; are you transferring here from another Wizarding School?"

"No, this is my first year at any Wizarding School." The girl explained.

Harry, Ron, and Ginny continued to look at her in disbelief but Hermione nodded in sudden understanding.

"You're an Evigilo?" She asked quietly.

The girl nodded solemnly. "I found out this summer, and the Headmaster of Hogwarts sent out a tutor to help me catch up and learn. He said I was a very good learner," she blushed modestly. "He thinks I can come to the sixth year and do well."

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise, and Harry saw with amusement, a tinge of jealously.

"What's an Evil-go-what's it?" Ron blurted out beside Harry.

Hermione glanced at him with reprimand. "Ron, we learned about this last year in Charms. We you paying attention?" She said. "An _Evigilo_ ( she pronounced the word slowly for Ron ) is a wizard whose powers lie dormant until a later age." She explained. "They're very rare." Hermione added, looking at the girl, who gave a small smile.

The basket that Hermione held in her right hand squirmed and an annoyed 'merow' issued from inside. The girl instantly sat upright, her eyes glittering as they looked at the basket eagerly. "Oh, have you got a cat?" She asked breathlessly, reaching down on the floor under the seat to remove a cat of her own. It was rather small and pitch black in color, with startling green eyes.

"This is Minty." She said, holding up the cat. "Isn't she sweet?"

Harry glanced at the cat and decided it was one of the most arrogant things he had seen, human or animal. It peered around the room haughtily, tail flicking back and forth, it's manner that of a queen surveying her subjects. He felt Ron tense beside him; Ron hadn't taken a liking to cats, especially since Hermione's cat had proved himself more trouble than he was worth, even if he had caught Peter Pettigrew.

"She's lovely!" Hermione said, and then opened up Crookshank's basket so he could climb out. He fell out onto the floor and instantly caught sight of Minty, walking behind Hermione and peering from between her legs with intense dislike at the other cat. "This is Crookshanks. Oh, don't be shy Crookshanks!" She picked up the big orange oaf and cuddled him. "I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, and Head Girl of the Gryfinndor House."

"What a darling creature!" The girl squealed with delight. "I'm Tavi." She said happily and then looked expectantly at the others.

"Ginny Weasley, please to meet you." Ginny said with a smile, and settled herself down on the seat across from Tavi.

Ron and Harry stood there for a minute, each waiting for the other to introduce themselves. Finally, Harry cleared his throat and Ron spoke.

"Ronald Weasley." He said in his new, changed voice, which was slightly deeper. His eyes flickered from Ginny to Harry to Hermione, daring any of them to make fun of him for using his full name. None of them did, but Ginny looked ready to explode with laughter.

Harry felt Tavi's eyes on himself, and he sighed inwardly in resignation. "I'm Harry Potter." He said as casually as possible, and then winced as he waited for the typical reaction to his name. _Here it comes._ He thought.

"Harry Potter?!" She said, standing up in surprise and causing Minty to hiss angrily. "_The _Harry Potter?" Tavi waited for Harry's nod of confirmation before squealing, "I read about you in _Important Figures of Magical History_!"

Harry and Ron sat down and went through the usual, a conversation that lasted until the lunch trolley came along. With money given to her by Fred and George as a birthday gift, Ginny bought a myriad of magical snacks for them all. Harry supplied another round and soon they were all munching happily, chirping noises coming from the chocolate eggs that actually hatched. Later they explained to Tavi about Hogwarts and went over a few of the things that had happened there. She was an eager listened.

Near the end of the trip Ron and Hermione left to go to the Heads of Houses compartment, leaving Ginny, Harry, and Tavi to leave the train together once it reached Hogwarts grounds. They met up with Neville along the way and the four of them got into one of the horseless carriages that would take them up to the castle. Tavi gasped in delight and wonderment at how the carriages could move on their own. Harry, knowing better, simply stared at the thestrels and tried not to think to hard about what had happened last year. Ron and Neville went unusually quiet beside him.


End file.
